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"A mere baronet. It needn't go against the grain much," remarked Sir Ralph. "Think how much worse it is for your poor cousin!" "Why?" "To marry a 'real live lord, who will some day be a marquis." "Oh!" exclaimed Beechy. "She who said she would like to teach other American girls a lesson." "I didn't know," Maida faltered. "What?" asked Ralph. "You didn't tell her?"
"And the Prince says, if only we knew what the road to Cattaro was like, I'd thank instead of scolding him." "Nonsense!" I exclaimed. "We must go back. What's to become of Beechy left alone in Ragusa ill, with nobody but Mr. Barrymore and Sir Ralph to look after her? It's monstrous!" "Yes, of course," said Aunt Kathryn, more meekly. "But Signorina Bari's there. It isn't so dreadful, Maida.
When I think of that fair city in the sea, I shall often want to run back and try to comfort some of those lions. Beechy was with me in this; and as for Aunt Kathryn, even the flattering attentions of the Corraminis did not please her more than our experience at the antiquaries', which we owed to Mr. Barrymore.
"Oh, a little bit as if your soul had got out of your body and taken a bath in a mountain spring, after you'd been staggering up some of the steep paths of life in the dust and sun. Isn't that it?" "Yes. Thank you," I answered. And we seemed to understand each other so well that I was almost frightened. "I want all these streets for mine," said Beechy, in a chattering mood.
I shivered and felt as if there were no more thickness to me than a paper doll; but I shouldn't have dared to tell Beechy that, or she would have laughed, for I haven't got my weight down yet to less than a hundred and fifty pounds.
I screamed under my breath, as Beechy says, and caught hold of the seat with both hands. The Prince did something in a hurry to the machinery, and suddenly the engine was as still as death. The boat went on for a few yards, as if by its own impetus, and then began to float helplessly. "I've stopped the motor by mistake," he explained.
But happy I am, happier than I've ever been, though I keep asking myself, or Maida, or Beechy, "Why is it so nice?" Maida says she doesn't know why, she only knows it is, and much more than nice. "The Quintessence of Joy-of-Life," that is what she has named the sensation; and as Maida uses it, it is sure to be all right, though I must admit that to me it sounds almost improper.
Beechy was also convinced before she crossed the Bridge of Sighs that many people, especially Americans, would pay large sums or even commit crimes, in order to be put in prison at Venice. "Such a lovely situation," she argued, "and lots of historical associations too." But afterwards, when she had seen where Marino Faliero lay, and the young Foscari, she was inclined to change her mind.
"Funny he should be more familiar with the country than you, as you've got a castle there," Beechy soliloquized aloud. "I make no secret that I have never lived at Hrvoya," the Prince answered. "Neither I, nor my father before me. The house where I was born is at Abbazzia. That is why I want you to go that way.
Both vessels were strengthened as much as possible, and stored with provisions for two years, including an ample supply of anti-scorbutics, and everything which could be thought of to enable the crews to endure the extreme rigours of a polar winter. Captain Sabine accompanied Lieutenant Parry as astronomer, and Mr Beechy as lieutenant.
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